In the Space of a Morning
by NatureGirl52180
Summary: OotP FLUFF! What has Sirius been doing with his spare time at Number12 Grimmauld Place?


"FILTH! TRAITORS! HOW DARE YOU DESECRATE THIS HOUSE!"

Sirius Black, for once was glad of the portrait of his insane mother hanging in the entry hall of Number 12 Grimmauld Place. Whoever had just entered would now have to deal with the portrait before they could come any further into the house. Usually, he would have dashed immediately to the aid of whatever poor unfortunate member of the Order of the Phoenix had simply forgottenand rung the doorbell out of habit. But today, the distraction gave him a few more moments of precious time. He looked up towards the noise as he tucked away the thimble, threw a few scraps of cloth into the fire and slipped the product of his morning's work into his pocket. It was only after every trace was disposed of that he headed for the stairs.

It had only taken a few days for the portrait, with a little help from the old, insane house-elf, Kreacher to become familiar with each of the members that belonged to the Order of the Phoenix. Lately, she had been referring to each individual with separate little pet names, so by the time Sirius was halfway up the stairs, he already knew who had come through the front door. "Filthy half-blood traitor" was his distant cousin, Nymphadora Tonks, while "Loathsome, disgusting animal" was reserved for Sirius's old friend, Remus Lupin.

He couldn't help but smile as he entered thehall and found exactly the scene he was expecting. Lupin and Tonks grabbed hold of the long, moth eaten curtains and tried to haul them back over the demented Harpy. As they struggled, other portraits in the hall awoke and took up the wailing. With one final tug, Lupin managed to bring the curtains together and backed away, taking a deep breath as the squealing and death threats died away and the other portraits quieted.

Tonks, her hair a shade of bright pink today, leaned back against the wall. "It was a shame I never got to know Great Auntie. I think she and I would have got on well, don't you?"

Lupin laughed. "Yes, especially with that hair."

"What's wrong with my hair?"

"Nothing." Lupin shrugged, still smiling. "At least, I like it. But having met Mrs. Black once or twice, I got the impression she was a bit on the conservative side."

"And," Sirius made his presence known to the other two, "I know for a fact that she found bands such as the _Weird Sisters_ vulgar and crude."

The witch looked down at her t-shirt, which sported the logo for the band. "Uncultured hag."

"SWINE!" The curtains containing the portrait rustled violently. "VERMIN!"

Tonks jumped a mile and literally tried to climb Lupin. Sirius couldn't help but notice that this seemed to please his friend very much and he was reluctant to let go when Tonks's fright had passed. He raised a knowing eyebrow at Lupin as the other cleared his throat nervously.

As jealous as he was that Lupin and Tonks were actively involved in the Order, Sirius determined to curb the feeling as much as possible. Lupin's shoulders were sagging and the dark circles under her eyes made it look as though Tonks hadn't slept in a week. Whatever their mission had turned up and however curious he was for some news of forward progress, they would not discuss it tonight. "My old friend, you look like hell."

Lupin chuckled ruefully. "Thank you, Sirius. That's exactly what I needed to cheer me up."

"How many times do I have to tell you not to ring the bloody bell?"

"You'll have to take that up with Tonks, I'm afraid." Lupin replied. "She hit the button before I could stop her."

"Sorry for the racket." She pushed herself from the wall. "Is it just me, or is that painting getting crazier and louder?"

"Perhaps if you stopped irritating her so." Sirius smiled. "Come on, both of you. I was just about to pull the kettle off for tea. Let's leave the old hag to her ranting."

When they entered the kitchen, the teapot was screaming for immediate attention. Sirius went to it as Tonks made for the cupboard for mugs and Lupin gathered the cream and sugar.

As Tonks set down the cups, something caught her eye. "What's this?" Carefully, she picked up from the table a dark strand, folded over with a small sewing needle threaded upon it.

"A needle, of course." Sirius snatched it from her.

"What for?"

"Sewing."

"As inept as I am at domestic chores, I had deduced that." She grinned cheekily as she began to pour tea. "Taking a lead from Hermione and making clothes for your house-elf?"

"Clear off." Sirius snarled through a smile. "If you must know, I was darning my socks."

"Socks?" Lupin cocked an eyebrow as he took a seat.

"Yes, socks, Remus. Seeing as I have but one pair, I thought I should perhaps take care of them until such time as I can leave this godforsaken house and acquire some more."

"All you had to do was ask. Molly and I. . ."

"I don't need you all mothering me."

"I am not mothering you." Lupin replied sternly. "But if you've only one pair of socks, and if those happen to be the one pair of socks you left Azkaban in, I'm not sure I can live with you."

Tonks laughed as Sirius leaned over. "I've got one better. I've only one pair of skivvies as well, but I save those for special occasions."

Tonks laughed even harder and to Sirius's surprise he managed to get a few well-controlled chuckles from Lupin. It had never been easy to get his friend to laugh at Sirius's more juvenile brand of humor. He felt a swelling of pride as Lupin sat back and wiped a tear of laughter from his eye. "I'm afraid that is more information than I actually needed. Here, before I forget. I brought you something." He reached into his patched and tattered robes as he sat down at the table and pulled out the day's copy of the _Daily Prophet_.

"Thanks." Enthusiasm was lacking from Sirius's voice as he dropped the latest edition on the stack that he had barely touched since his old friend had last brought him a copy weeks before.

Lupin eyed him critically as he added cream to his cup. "Haven't you read any of them?"

"I'm not interested in the lies which the Daily Prophet sees fit to publish these days." Sirius picked up the paper and turned it over to the back page. "And Quidditch scores just don't seem that important anymore."

"Still," Tonks spoke up as she sat down beside Sirius. "At least it gives you a glimpse of the outside world."

"A glimpse that suggests the entire wizarding world has gone potty." Sneering at another snide comment made in the direction of his godson printed on the pages, he dropped the paper. "I'm not interested."

"Well, at least it's got a crossword." Tonks suggested hopefully.

Sirius snorted. "The things are bloody impossible! I mean really, who has any idea who holds the record for burnings at the stake?"

"Wendelin the Weird." Lupin and Tonks answered together.

With a flick of the wrist, Sirius threw the paper down in front of Tonks and slid a quill and a bottle of ink towards her. "Have at it."

Dipping the end of the quill, the witch happily began filling in the squares. After watching her for a few seconds, Lupin turned back to him. "Are you all right?"

There was a slight twitch at the corner of Sirius's mouth. "What would make you think I'm not all right?"

"Hey, who first brewed Veritaserum?" Tonks interrupted.

"Aloysius Ablecree, by most accounts." Lupin replied, seemingly unperturbed by the interruption.

"Ablecree? Hey that fits!"

Lupin shook his head and turned back to Sirius. "I'd be lying if I said wasn't worried about your mental health."

"After all these years, now you're worried about my mental health?"

"Be serious." Lupin chastised in his usual, gently firm way. "I can't imagine what it's like for you to be trapped here. . ."

"Lupin, try this one. 'Measuring instrument'."

"Scales?"

"Doesn't fit."

"Try 'balance'. Scales are often called that in western wizarding schools."

"That works." Tonks scribbled away.

Sirius spoke up. "I've been keeping myself entertained."

"I do not call 'Kreacher-trouncing' an acceptable form of entertainment." Lupin replied, sipping his tea. "And if you keep having arguments with your mother's portrait, _you'll _end up muttering to yourself in the pantry."

It was at that particular moment that the house-elf in question made his entrance. He gave each of them a scathing glance in turn and muttering, making no attempt to hide what appeared to be a pair of tatty old knickers that had once belonged to Sirius's mother as he stowed them in his cubbyhole beside the boiler and made his way from the room again, none too keen to spend more time then he had to in company of blood-traitors and filth. Sirius watched him go.

"I expect you think all those books you brought me are a distraction from my current situation?"

"I thought perhaps you might like to take the time to broaden your mind." Lupin replied briskly as Tonks muttered what sounded like "Grindylow grounds" and scratched some more.

"Now who's taking a lead from Hermione?" Sirius reached down and picked up a copy of _Fact and Fiction: Muggle Interpretations of the Magical Realm. _"Are you trying to broaden my mind or Stupefy me slowly over the course of reading this fine literary work?"

"I found that to be an excellent read."

"Half-wit."

"Excuse me?"

Lupin cast a bewildered and amused glance at Tonks who looked up from the paper, bemused herself. "What?"

"Did you just call me a 'half-wit'?"

"What? No. It was a clue in the paper. See? 61 across." She held it up for Lupin to look at.

Sirius leaned over to look as well. "What did Snape do to rate a clue in the _Daily Prophet_ crossword?"

"I think, perhaps, it's 'idiot', actually." Tonks said as she penned it in. "Though 'Snape' does have the correct number of letters."

Lupin laughed. "Poor Severus. He's not even here to defend himself."

"My heart bleeds." Sirius said in a bored manner.

"What's the gestation of a Norwegian Ridgeback?"

"14 months." Lupin said off-handedly before turning back to Sirius. He stopped halfway and looked at Tonks again. "That's not a question in the puzzle, is it?"

"Of course not." She grinned. "Just wanted to see if you knew, that's all."

Sirius laughed as Lupin made a face at her. "You are a bit of a know-it-all, Remus."

"And a tired one at that." Lupin stood. "You'll forgive me if I don't fill you in on all the details of the last few days?"

"I understand, old friend." Sirius smiled as Lupin left the room. "Have a good rest."

"I think I'll turn in as well." Tonks dropped her quill and stood to stretch. "We haven't been getting much sleep."

"I'll bet not." Sirius muttered slyly.

"What was that?"

"Nothing." He said immediately, still smiling, but not looking at his cousin. "Yours is the third door on the right at the top of the stairs."

She gazed at him quizzically. "I've been using that room since I joined the Order. Why remind me now?"

"Oh, just wouldn't want you to get lost. Take that second door on the left and catch Remus in the buff."

He slowlyraised ashrewd eyebrow in the woman's direction as she glared back and made a face at him before leaving the kitchen. He turned in his chair to watch her stomp up the steps, making sure he was good and gone before reaching into his pocket. He pulled it out and studied it, the seemingly innocent little project that had distracted him all day. Then he reached for the copy of _Fact and Fiction_ and flipped to the now well-known pages concerning Voodoo dolls. Oh, if Remus only knew what his simple gesture had caused. It had caused him to go to the cloth and needle, to recreate Snape's beady dark eyes and hooked nose on the doll with ink. Probably not what the good-hearted Lupin had intended at all.

There was just one problem. According to the book, Sirius still needed a possession of Snape's to make the curse work. All that he had managed to scrounge in the house was a long, slightly greasy black hair that he had wound around the doll's arm. Perhaps that would be enough. . .

Sirius was studying the doll critically when he finally laughed aloud. Was he serious? Did he actually think this Muggle hokum would work? Had he really spent all this time dwelling on Snape? Yes, but at least it had been a distraction from the monotony, and the thought of poking Snape and causing him discomfort beyond all suspicion had sounded like a dream come true. A dream that was too good. Perhaps Lupin was right. He was going potty being locked up in this damned house all of the time.

No, no, there would be no torturing Snape from afar, though, just for fun, he did stick the sewing needle into the shoulder. If nothing else, he was relieving stress and aggression on an inanimate object.

But it was a waste of time. After pulling the needle back out, he studied his handiwork again before sending it into the kitchen fire with a slow, regretful flick. Sirius sighed and watched the last remnants of the doll evaporate in the flame. Another morning wasted. Ah well, perhaps it was time for another panty-raid on Kreacher's cupboard anyway. With that, he stood up to find a garbage bag.

_Meanwhile at Hogwarts. . . _

"Mr. Potter, even after all these years, your ineptitude in Potions still never ceases to amaze me." Severus Snape looked down his nose disapprovingly at Harry's cauldron where, admittedly after only ten minutes of class, things had already gone wrong.

"If you cannot rectify the mistake, I shall expect a roll of parchment from you on the correct way to brew the antidote for Toad Transfiguration Spell by Wednesday, do you understand?"

"Yes, sir."

Without further word on how to correct whatever mistake Harry had made, Snape walked off, a satisfied smirk on his face. Harry sent a scalding look at his back before looking down into the mess he had created. Instead of a light orange, transparent liquid he had ended up with something roughly the consistency of vomit. Beside him Ron Weasly gave him a sympathetic look. Though not quite the color the Potions book indicated, he at least had the right texture.

Harry was just about to start reading through his text again when Snape caught his attention. The dark-haired man was rubbing his right shoulder and looking quite in pain. After a few seconds, though, the pain seemed to ease and Snape simply rubbed his shoulder. Harry thought no more of it as the professor walked across the room. He had bigger problems sitting in his cauldron.

Ron plucked his sleeve a few seconds later and nodded towards Snape. Squinting through his glasses, Harry studied the Potions Master. He had been inspecting the product of Pansy Parkinson's cauldron when Harry noticed the peculiar look on his face. Snape looked uncomfortable, the color rising in his high cheekbones. For a moment Harry figured that someone was actually doing worse then he in this particular session. But Snape did not appear to be looking in Pansy's cauldron. He stood up straight and stared unfocused at the back wall, swallowing hard. It was the first time Harry could remember seeing the arrogant Snape ever being uncomfortable. It was fascinating.

"Longbottom!" Snape finally barked. "How many times have I told you to lower that fire? You're heating the entire room!"

"Professor?" Neville squeaked and looked up with an expression of confused fear. He was stooped beneath the cauldron working on restoring the fire that had gone out soon after he started it at the beginning of class.

Snape's eyes widened slightly as his composure faltered. "Yes. . . well. . ."

All of the students were watching now as Snape pulled at his shirt. To Harry, who was trying unsuccessfully to hide a grin, it looked as though Professor Snape was a bit hot under the collar. He had no idea what was happening or why, but he was enjoying every minute of it.

"I think that I need a moment. . . too, ah. . . compose myself." Snape stood up straighter and headed towards the door. "Class. . . class dismissed."

And with that, Snape disappeared, his hard-soled shoes pounding the cobblestones of the hall. Harry looked to Ron whose face was beaming. "What just happened?"

"Don't know." Harry replied. "At least I got out of that essay. There would have been no saving this mess."

"It's not funny, Harry." Hermione said as she picked up her cauldron to dump it. "Do you think he'll be all right for the next class?"

"I doubt our luck could hold that long." Ron deflated a bit and Hermione gave him a reproachful glare.

As for Harry, he simply laughed and thought about plans for his now free afternoon. He made a mental note to tell Sirius about this little incident the next time he saw him.


End file.
